The Scoundrel's Story
by FredNeverDied
Summary: This is Star Wars from Han Solo's point of view. How he changed from the self-centered scoundrel into the self-sacrificing hero. This won't be too long, just five chapters or less and it's canon with nothing except the original trilogy. Rated for mild swearing, please read and review.
1. One

The Scoundrel's Story: One

When Han Solo was thirteen, he dropped out of the school his father sent him to and stowed away on a ship. He was tired of his home-life (if you could call it a home) tired of his planet (if you could call that little dirt ball a planet). He was done with his father's drunken, shouting tirades about how he was never going to be somebody if he didn't go to school. _Pheh_, says the man who was usually so hungover he usually couldn't get out of bed in the morning. Han didn't stop to think about the consequences, he just ran away from his fat, drunk father.

When he was found by a large, green slug his heart had frozen in his chest. In the back of his mind he was considering that maybe, just _maybe_, it hadn't been a good idea to get on the ship in the first place. When the big slug started yelling at him in Huttese, which he just barely knew the basics of, and Han realized he had gotten himself ont the ship of a very known, very dangerous gang member, he _really_ considered that this hadn't been a good idea. But the Hutt, Jabba was his name, was amused by the initiative and foolhardy bravery of a thirteen year old and took Han in.

It never occurred to him then that maybe being involved with dangerous gangs was not a good idea. Possibly a _lethal_ not-good-idea. But it didn't matter to Han Solo because things always worked out in the end if he just moved fast. Nothing was ever going to catch up to _him_.

He made lots of friends in the smugglers' circles. He made lots more enemies. He made himself the owner of the best ship out there. He got himself the best first mate. He made a name for himself, an identity; which was a dream come true for him because he was _famous_ now (and easily traceable by any of the many people he pissed off) but mostly famous. He also got tons and tons of women throwing themselves at the dangerous, smooth, _famous_ scoundrel, Captain Han Solo. And he never got into trouble. Just act first, act quick, and you ended up with no regrets. That was his motto and boy did it work!

So life was great. Life was easy. Life was smooth. It was…Okay, so he was a _little_ behind on payments, but that could easily get glossed over. He was Han Solo! Behind on payments was nothing he couldn't handle.

And then that all just had to change.

Because then he met an old man and a whiny farm boy who wanted passage to Alderaan. Easy. No questions asked? He could understand that. Seventeen hundred bucks? _Perfect_! See? No worries, he could pay back Jabba and be on his merry way.

Then everything went wrong. Alderann—an entire freakin' planet—blew up. The _Falcon_—his precious _Falcon_, the love of his life—was taken by the damned Empire. And the whiny kid, Luke, wanted to go play hero and rescue a _princess_ of all things. Why? Had he met the princess? No. Was the princess expecting him? No. Was this a potentially life-ending adventure? Absolutely. So were there any possible upsides to this? Yeah. There was money. Han was in.

And so Han dressed up as an Imperial Storm Trooper and ran off to go rescue the above-mentioned alien princess, probably from some planet where they all had green fur and blue teeth...But as it turned out, the princess was not a only a human but a _bombshell_ of a human, could handle a gun without a qualm, and had every initiative to get them the hell out of there. So maybe this _wasn't_ a waste of his time… (Regardless of the fact that she obviously hated him.)

Han, Wookie co-pilot, whiny farm boy, and the bombshell managed to get out without getting killed, which was certainly nice, and go on to the princess's little rebel base. Why was she a rebel? She was royalty, rich, and gorgeous and she was risking it all by taking on the whole Empire? Okay, so maybe she was a little crazy, too. But it didn't matter because all he wanted was the money. Let them all be crazy, it wouldn't affect him. Besides, he needed to be getting out of there anyway, get while the getting was good…

But by the time they reached Yavin 4, one of Yavin's teeny moons and home of this bunch of rebels, Han didn't, exactly, want to leave. Because after talking to a couple people, he found out that there _was_ a fighting chance of overthrowing the Empire and he knew he hated them and their taxes as much as the next guy. And when he wasn't complaining, Luke wasn't so bad. And the princess _sure_ wasn't bad.

But then again, if he didn't get to the Hutts soon, there was going to be a price on his head so big he wouldn't be able to…Oh yeah; these people weren't worth risking his neck. What was he thinking!?

Once he was on his way out of Yavin's system, Han, for maybe the first time, reconsidered the quick decision. If he never saw any of them again…Had he really just left like that knowing they could all be dead by the next day? Maybe he'd best go back, you know, to keep what moral ground he had left. Chewie was all for it; apparently he was in the mood for a fight, so it was agreed.

They wheeled around back to Yavin, against his better judgment, and managed, just in time, to save the farm boy's life.

After that, there was a huge party and rewards and every body was hugging him like he was the "good guy" for once and he had to admit that this novelty felt a little nice. There certainly wasn't a problem with it—especially when it came to the Princess—and Han decided that maybe doing the right thing had its merits too.

Pretty soon he was wrapped up in the rebel's affairs, he and Luke had become friends, and the Princess, par usual, couldn't stand him. Everything was perfect. Except for that fact that Jabba had put that bounty on his head. So Han had to fly off now and pay the toll, but before he could leave they're attacked by more Imperials.

The Princess had to leave with Han, again fine by him, but before they can escape, the stupid hyperspace drive of _course_ has to die on him. So to avoid the Empire, Han pilots them, despite the Princess's nagging, into the middle of an asteroid field. The _Falcon_ lands down in a hole in one of the asteroids and he and Chewie have got to fix everything all over again.

He set her Worshipness to maintenance on the converters (which she can handle pretty well for a high-brow Princess…not that he would have told her, of course) before he realized she couldn't turn the knobs. Understandable, he'll admit.

His help transitioned smoothly into bickering which turned into the usual flirting that typically just made her mad and storm off. It was entertaining to see her unhinged. But for some reason, she doesn't leave this time. She lets him get closer and _closer_ and finally when he realizes he's probably never, _ever_ going to get another chance at this he gets nervous. 'The hell did _that_ come from?

But her Highness takes it out of his hands and kisses _him_.

And just as Han realized that this isn't the same as kissing any of the other girls from all over the galaxies and the epiphany of that could be very key to something, the damned Threepio unit has to show up! When Han turns around, she's gone, probably ashamed of herself. Well that doesn't bother him (right?); because all he wanted was the bragging rights of the kiss… (_Right_?)

C-3PO's entrance, however, was necessary because Han hasn't gotten them out of danger yet; he's gotten them out of one danger and into one even more immediate because they're currently down the belly of a gigantic asteroid worm! He _did_ get them out of there though and due to a pretty brilliant move of his, Han thought to attach the ship to the side of a Star Destroyer and hide there in plain sight. The idea was to just float away with the trash when it was released and make off to Cloud City where an old friend would (hopefully) take them in and help them out. But, of course, it didn't work out like that.

Lando Calrissian, former friend and recently turned ex-buddy, turns out to set them up for the Empire and a damned bounty hunter! So now Han is unwilling bait for his best friend, Luke; Princess Leia is most likely going to be tortured until she can't remember her own name, Chewie will get the same treatment, and Han will be carbon frozen for Darth Vader's amusement and shipped off to Jabba. So this was what it was like when your life caught up to you: the absolute lowest, disgusted, guiltiest feeling in the world. The worst part was that he was bringing down everyone he cared about with him, especially Leia.

The last thing that happened before he gets himself frozen forever, very possibly killed, is the worst mistake of his life. The princess pulls herself up to kiss him one last time ("Hold on to that moment, Han, because it's the last good thing that will ever happen to you!") and then does the one thing that could possibly make him turn his life around for her. (Become an honest worker, hang on to that one woman because she was definitely all he would ever need, settle down, grow old…_Shit_, how long had be been creating that list!?) But it's too late for them, ("And it's all _your_ fault Han!") making her words the one thing that he wants _least_ in the galaxies.

She tells him she loves him.

_Dammit_, how long had that been coming? He'd messed with the girl's head too much and now he was paying for it because the _last_ thing he wanted to do was hurt her more. Where Han came from, love was something close to a lifelong commitment and he knows he's about to die. He can't let her sign herself over to a dead man like that, its bad enough she has to watch this. So he does one final thing to help her, and, hating himself for it, responds, "I know."

One final look up at her beautiful, terrified, heartbroken face and the whole world goes black.

* * *

_Four chapters in ten days! I'm on a roll! Tell me if you think I should continue!_


	2. Two

The Scoundrel's Story: Two

Han spent an entire _year_ in carbon freeze.

He knew he was sleeping through most of it and was barely aware that his mind was moving slowly. All his abilities to function had ceased to work and apparently thinking and remembering were included in that. Every now and then a name would work its way out of his subconscious into his thoughts and he would desperately try to grasp the details about them, to anchor himself into consciousness with those names.

_Mom_…was beautiful…died when I was nine years old…fought with Father…broken bottles and bad smells.

_Father_…fat, drunk…strange women…Mom crying…"_never be somebody!_"… hypocritical _asshole_.

_Chewie_… First one to trust me…loyalty…through anything …best friend and first mate…_Millennium Falcon_…

_Lando_…old friend…no, enemy…betrayed me…betrayed my friends…

_Leia_…"I love you"…"I know"…never forgive myself…I'm sorry…_so_ sorry...Leia…Leia…

Thoughts found a way of linking themselves together but in ways he wasn't sure how they were linked. But mostly, he just existed; trapped in a lonely, hibernating limbo. He had no idea of the passage of time. Han knew could be released from this and everyone he loved could have died fighting centuries, millennia, _eons_ ago.

It never once occurred to him that his friends would save him because he was still so used to being a lone wolf. Chewie was certainly the only one he'd ever had a long-term connection with. It never once occurred to him that the Rebels would have freed him, friends or no, because he was useful, because he'd never been necessary to anyone. Important to the smugglers, sure, but still very much disposable. His current circumstance was a testimony to that.

It could have been minutes or years before he felt something other than his own thoughts. It was real and solid. He'd forgotten what solid felt like. He was conscious of a body, something else he'd forgotten, and realized that he suddenly had the need to _breathe_. Han took that fist, delicious breath as he fell out of the cast of carbon. He fell flat on his face but didn't care about pain because it felt so much better than nothing.

He lay there knowing that he'd been unfrozen for a reason and that Jabba had probably just gotten him out for some sick entertainment. Fine, let them do what they would. He wasn't much use for anybody anyway, was he? Then, someone touched him—not the rough treatment he'd expected but gentle, and pushed him into a sitting position.

Han tried to hold himself upright but he was having trouble controlling his movements. The person, whoever it was, told him to relax for a moment. The voice, though unfamiliar and strange, was so good to hear because he'd only had his own thoughts for too long.

"You're free of the carbonite," said the growling voice, "you have hibernation sickness." Han tried hard to see their face but something was impeding his vision. He raised a hand to his eyes but there was nothing there, so why was everything still black? What he would give for that simple sensation of sight.

"I can't see," he told the person. His voice was messed up and he sounded like he was drunk.

"Your vision will return to you, in time," the person assured him.

"Where am I?" Han thought these were pretty good questions for someone who as of five minutes ago was having trouble remembering his own identity. It was a cocky thought and he recognized that as something from his past: cockiness. (That's a good sign right?)

"You're in Jabba's palace," said the voice. The good feeling went away. Great, Jabba's palace. He was probably about to be eaten by something large and disgusting for Jabba's delight. This "rescuer" was probably just being nice to lull him into a false sense of security. Han figured that if he was about to die, he at least deserved to know who/what was killing him. He reached up to touch the face of the person but even this information was withheld because they were wearing a mask.

"Who are you?" Han didn't expect a straight answer and he didn't get one. What he got was a change of voice, change of tone, and enough to surprise to make it fell like he'd gotten the wind knocked out of him.

"Someone who loves you."

Relief swept through his mind—_glorious, blessed relief_— his first real sensation since being frozen. That was _Leia's_ voice. Leia had come to save him? She still loved him even after the way he'd purposefully treated her at Cloud City?

"Leia," he gasped and suddenly she was kissing him again and it didn't matter that he couldn't see because the whole world worked right now. He tried to hold her because he desperately needed that extra assurance that this was all real but his body still wasn't responding. Far too soon, she broke the kiss and told him they needed to get moving. ('I love you.' 'I know'…because I just don't want to hurt you. I thought about you as much as I could. I'm done with being lonely; a year is too long to be alone with your thoughts. And I want to tell you that, _damn it_! What do you mean we have to get moving!?)

His thoughts were interrupted by familiar, evil laughter that surrounded them. It was Jabba, of course, and his stomach clenched painfully as he realized Leia was going down with him. (Again.) Han knew he couldn't talk them out of this but it was at least worth trying. No go. Bribery didn't work either and he was carted away, his unresponsive muscles useless, leaving Leia behind to deal with the monster himself. A horrible thought occurred to him then. He'd worked for Jabba long enough to know the details about his entourage. He could only desperately hope that Leia wasn't inducted into this, knowing there was a certain, humiliating part she could fill.

Han was thrown into a dungeon: scared, blind, and alone; until he heard a snuffle from across the room. It could have been anything but he ventured to say, "Chewie?" anyway.

Suddenly the Wookie had wrapped him up in a huge bear hug and was pounding him on the back. According to his co-pilot, this was an attempt at a rescue. A rescue? For Han Solo? He was slightly flattered, but it didn't matter because they were failing at it miserably.

No, no; apparently this was organized by the little farm kid who now had gotten himself to be a Jedi Knight! How long had he been out of it that everybody had gained such a big opinions of themselves to have these delusions of grandeur!?

For the next hour while his sight began to slowly return, Chewie told him what had happened over the last year. Luke had been absent for the majority of the time, training with Yoda. But since he'd returned, he'd led many successful operations for the Rebel Alliance. They had won only a few more battles than they had lost in the year, but most of that due to Luke's recent reappearance. Even Chewie admitted that Lando had made up for his betrayal and if it was good enough a Wookie, Han could agree. And Leia—(Oh Leia, I'm _so_ sorry)—had been out of action for a full _month_ after the events of Cloud City because she couldn't concentrate on anything.

But of _course_, before Chewie could get to events of _today_, the door slid open and one of Jabba's guards came to haul them off. Han was roughly shoved around till he felt himself thrown into a larger space where the sound echoed differently. There was commotion all over the room and it was _infuriating_ that he couldn't see any of it. But then he heard a familiar voice calling his name.

"Luke!?" he called back. (Oh _please_ let it be him. I need _some_thing familiar in this blindness.)

"Are you alright?" That was definitely the kid's voice. Relief, even it was going to be short-lived, felt unbelievably good again.

"Fine," he muttered. He was anything but fine of course. Blind, disoriented, robbed of initiative without his sight; battered and bruised; and scared (yes, scared, he'd admit it, if only to himself) of what was going to happen to the five of them: Leia, Chewie, Luke, Lando, and himself. However, he said, "Together again, huh?" because Jabba really _was_ crazy if he thought that Han was going to be out of character ere death.

"Wouldn't miss it." Luke sounded bored. Han would've thought it was a shield, too; if he hadn't known that Luke's mind didn't work that way. Or the kid could really have something up his sleeve…

"How're we doing?" Han asked, hoping for some kind of hint.

"Same as always." Well that was useful. Because they were "always" taking two steps forward and then forced one back. But they'd made it so far, so they'd "always" come out on top one way or another, which meant maybe Luke was about to take another two steps. Then again, the current circumstances were arguably the worst yet. Was there any room for even two steps?

"That bad, huh?" Han said, keeping up with the nonchalant act that was hardly true at this point.

He wasn't forgetting the most important one of their "rescue" mission of course.

"Where's Leia?" he asked. (She got out, right? Say she got out while she could!)

But her voice came from his left, "I'm here." (_Shit!_)

The Threepio unit, which is now working for Jabba for some reason, (thanks a lot Chewie. Your explanation was wonderfully to-the-point which is why I understand _everything_ going on here!) started translating some monologue that Jabba had probably given uncountable times. Han had seen this before. The victim got the death-speech and was gone within ten minutes. (Luke, you had _better_ have something up your sleeve!)

Han had to tune out of the gory details Jabba was giving them—it was obviously only going to make him feel worse. But then the bit about pain for over a thousand years got his interest; not for any right reasons of course; honestly how could he expect something simple like a blaster shot to the chest? And then they were shoved off down Death Row, the kid being the cocky one for once, shouting, "Jabba, that's the last mistake you'll ever make!"

Han _really_ hoped that he had something up his sleeve.


End file.
